


Mr. Schnee Let's Loose

by Cormag_Ravenstaff



Series: Mustache Shitposting [2]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Daddy Schnee, Don't forget your parents' birthdays, Humor, Mr. Schnee is my daddy, Parody, shitpost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-02-10 09:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12908760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cormag_Ravenstaff/pseuds/Cormag_Ravenstaff
Summary: He's bad, he's mad, and he's a dad. They forgot about his birthday. They would pay. All of them.





	1. Engage Shitposting

Mr. Schnee had had enough. He had had it up to HERE.

If his children were going to act like little bitches, then they needed to be properly punished. No one forgets his birthday.

"James, I can't let them defy me like this!" Mr. Schnee exclaimed, stroking his mustache.

General Ironwood didn't really know what to tell his boss-who-isn't-technically-his-boss-but-the-show-makes-it-feel-like-it-at-times. He just stroked his newly acquired stubble and said, "I dunno, Mr. Schnee."

Mr. Schnee stood up from his imposing dictator desk and slammed his fist into his palm. "I'll tell you what I'm gonna do, James. I'm gonna give them what they deserve."

"Mr. Schnee, don't you think you might be overreacting a little bit?" General Ironwood said, a moment of clarity waking him from the influence of the Mr. Schnee's mustache.

Mr. Schnee's eyes flashed. With a roar, he punched Ironwood in the face.

But what Mr. Schnee did not intend was for the good General's face to cave in and crumple. The General fell to the ground, dead.

"Oh." Mr. Schnee scratched his mustache. "Fuck it. If I'm going to jail, I'm gonna earn it."

His mustache started flapping its wings and carried Mr. Schnee off the ground. Just a foot off the ground, he sailed down the halls of his mansion.

Arriving at Whitley's room, Mr. Schnee opened the door. Whitley, whom had been sitting in a chair staring at the wall for three-point-seven hours now, gasped.

From beneath Mr. Schnee's nose, the mustache grew. It's tendrils of hair navigated their way to Whitley and choked the kid out.

And just like that, Whitley was dead like his potential for character.

"I must be off!" Mr. Schnee cried. "Or my name isn't Mr. Schnee!"

Through the window he bounded! His mustache adapted, using its tendrils and Mr. Schnee's legs to gallop across the cold snowscape of Atlas.

When he arrived at the military academy thing that Atlas called a school, Mr. Schnee burst through the door. Men and women cowered as the demigod of a man prowled through the hallways looking for his prey.

"WINTER!" screamed Mr. Schnee, finally setting his sights on his target.

Winter turned around and her eyes widened. "Oh fuck," she muttered.

"THIS IS FOR NOT GIVING ME A BIRTHDAY PRESENT!" roared Mr. Schnee. Performing a perfect handspring, Mr. Schnee launched himself and landed atop his daughter. With his hands, he ripped the disobedient bitch to pieces.

He grumbled, "No one forgets Mr. Schnee's birthday."

That left him but one target: Weiss.

_Okay, his wife would normally be a target but she hasn't been in the show yet so_

"TO VALE," came his terrific screech.

Stepping into a plot hole, Mr. Schnee traveled to Vale.

Specifically, to Beacon.

Weiss and Ruby were just chillin' in the cafeteria when Mr. Schnee appeared.

"Mr. Schnee!" gasped Weiss.

Ruby frowned. "You call your dad Mr. Schnee?"

Weiss smacked Ruby on the head. "His first name is Mr. Full name, Mr. Schnee."

"Ah," Ruby nodded as she watched Mr. Schnee smash a table over Weiss' head, crushing her skull.

In fire and fury, Mr. Schnee laughed, his vengeance pact fulfilled. At long last, the people of Remnant would know that he just wanted his birthday presents.

The door to the cafeteria burst open. Many people streamed in, but one stood in the front before all the others.

One who had a rather mustached quality to him.

Professor Port.

He cackled, and said, "Mr. Schnee, you old dog, you!"


	2. Another Dose of Shitpost

"PORT!" shouted Mr. Schnee, his moustache ruffling in fury. "I almost expected the others to forget, but  _you?_  How could you forget my birthday?"

Professor Port climbed atop one of the few tables that wasn't ruined and let loose a loud guffaw. "Mr. Schnee, you dog, you! I was only returning the favor!"

Mr. Schnee reeled back, aghast. "You mean…!"

With a roar of fury, his moustache ripped his shirt off, basking the still living people in the cafeteria with Port's godly pecks. "You forgot my birthday, Mr. Schnee!"

People would tell stories of this day. The day when Peter Port and Mr. Schnee tangled and fought, moustache to moustache. A memorial would be built where Beacon once stood to honor such a colossal battle.

But there are always more to the tales than most people know.

Just as the two began to clash, a portal emerged in the ground.

"No…" Mr. Schnee gasped.

"Could it be…?" Port frowned.

A thick black 'stache emerged. Arthur Watts laughed as he said, "Happy birthday, old sport!"

Mr. Schnee's eyes watered, and his moustache wiped them away. "You remembered!"

"But of course, Mr. Schnee!" Watts laughed. He quickly frowned as he looked upon Peter Port.

"This man forgot your birthday, old sport! Let's show him this world only has room for two 'staches, not three!"

Mr. Schnee and Watts leapt at the professor in anger.

But what they didn't know would harm them in the end.

Peter Port was god.  _(Confirmed fan theory)_

He roared, and charged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small little update to tide you over until the next chapter


	3. i dont know what im doing

Peter Port suplexed the universe—

wait wrong fic

Mr. Schnee cawed like a bird and transformed into a bald eagle. He leapt at Port, talons alight with the sheer power of his 'stache.

Arthur Watts, whom didn't have a weapon because the show decided to NOT SHOW ANYTHING LIKE THAT yet, cackled as his mustache channeled electricity.

Both 'stached men jumped at Port. But Port wasn't so easily taken by the tricks of 'stache teaming up. With his axe-blunderbuss-thingy, he swatted Mr. Schnee aside! And as electricity shot from Watts' 'stache at Port, it bounced off!

"YOU THINK YOU CAN FIGHT A GOD?" Port roared. He picked up a table and hurled it at Mr. Schnee's bird-body lying on the ground, dazed. It would have hit him too, if it weren't for that meddling Watts' and his mangy 'stache.

Enraged, Port leapt at Watts. He gripped the man's 'stache, electricity having no effect, and  _ripped it off the doctor._

Watts screamed. His scream would have pierced lesser men's eardrums. It would have dissolved lesser men's lungs. It would have eviscerated lesser men's eyes. It would have obliterated lesser men's stomachs. But not this man. For he was no man.

He was Peter Port.

Mr. Schnee turned back into his human form to briefly shout, "NO!" He shifted again, turning into a winter bear.

(Think a bear, but like with, uh, like, something wintery on it, like a snow flake, wait no, that's dumb, it's the holidays, I uh, need to be more creative, yeah, something creative, like, holiday lights, yeah, the winter bear, it uh, has just a, few, nah, a bunch, of holiday lights wrapped around it, like a tree, but uh, of course, it's a bear, so uh, like, don't think Mr. Schnee is a tree, or anything, because that's not, uh, what I was going for, and uh, I feel like I'm forgetting something, uh, something like, uh, oh yeah, how could I forget, the plot.)

But Peter Port wasn't one to be just intimidated by a simple bear. Even if it had holiday lights, which he admitted, was pretty cool.

"Yo, Mr. Schnee, you're so shit that of your three kids, only one was good."

Mr. Schnee paused, and shifted out of bear form. "Which one?"

Peter Port guffawed. "Well, certainly not Shitley."

Somewhere in the distance someone yelled, "Get rekt!"

Mr. Schnee's 'stache swirled menacingly, and went and strangled the person. We don't know who it was, but let's be real, it was probably Yang.

Did I kill Yang in this fic yet?

I don't really care enough to look back to find out.

Mr. Schnee's 'stache returned to him and then shot out to Arthur Watts' body. It grabbed him like a puppet.

Suddenly Port had two foes again!


	4. i hate this fic, so the end

Peter Port sneezed. Arthur Watts' body disintegrated.

Mr. Schnee sighed. "You know, that's fair."

The two tangoed in terror, tearing up the tens of tables in the tall cafeteria. At least, the tables that weren't already destroyed.

People screamed. For some reason they hadn't left yet. Like, why the fuck not, it was a pretty cool show. Peter Port vs. Mr. Schnee, like fuck, just get John Cena in here and you've got a real smackdown.

"SCHNEE!" Port yelled with fervor.

"PORT!" Mr. Schnee screamed back at equal volume.

They each locked eyes. Suddenly all was quiet, even Ruby's cries of delight in the background. A calm settled over the battlefield.

Port shifted his left leg back.

Mr. Schnee shifted his right leg back.

They collided, both activating their lightspeed at the same time.

There was a pop as time and space scrambled.

And then…nothing.

Somewhere, Roman Torchwick muttered, "Fuck."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end. i actually forgot i had written this fic until this morning

**Author's Note:**

> Don't take this seriously.


End file.
